


Let Down My What?

by miriad



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-08
Updated: 2007-12-08
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miriad/pseuds/miriad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.” He runs his fingers through his hair, feels the mess become even wilder and grimaces. “Crap.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Down My What?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2007 undermistletoe challenge.

It’s a tall tower, taller than anything in Atlantis, and John knows that there is no way for him to go out the window. There aren’t any sheets to cut, to braid into ropes. The repelling line on his belt is only so long and not even close to what he would need. There is a pallet against the wall, a low table, a sink and a toilet.

And nothing else. Not even a door.

His radio isn’t working, not even static. His gun was gone when he woke up, as were his knives and his vest. He has water from the sink but he doesn’t trust it. There is no food. His vest gone, he doesn’t even have a powerbar.

“This sucks.” Great. He’s talking to himself. But he’s alone and it’s nice to hear a human voice, even if it’s his own. John leans out the window, trying to see the ground below the tower but there’s a thick fog swirling around the base and he can’t tell if he’s fifty stories or a hundred or possibly more.

He’s spent most of the day running his hands along the walls, trying to find a break in the bricks, something- anything- that would give some sort of hope that he could get out of here. If he wasn’t in the Pegasus galaxy and hadn’t been beamed in and out and through all sorts of things, he’d wonder how the hell he got in the tower without stairs. But he’s very aware that he was more than likely beamed in, possibly with Asgard technology but probably something Ancient.

He’s not sure where this one went wrong. They hadn’t gone very far through the gate before there was a bang and a flash and then Sheppard woke up in this tower. They hadn’t gotten far enough to find ruins, to find things that touchy people would want to touch and shouldn’t.

The stone below his feet sounds solid, best as John can tell. It has to be pretty thick- there isn’t any echo when he stomps his feet or jumps off the table. He doesn’t know if there are other floors or levels or if the tower is solid stone until the room he’s in.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.” He runs his fingers through his hair, feels the mess become even wilder and grimaces. “Crap.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Rodney does not freak out quietly. That’s one of the first things that Ronon learned about him and this time is no exception. There is a lot of hand wringing, lots of grumbling, groaning and moaning, as well as threats about what will happen if anything has happened to the Colonel. But, Ronon notices as he watches and (unfortunately) listens, Rodney is working. Rodney’s mouth, he discovers, is a bit of a distraction.

The Mistars have been less than helpful, only saying that they had to pay the fee and nothing more than that. Ronon is pretty sure that taking Sheppard is more than just paying a fee and he also knows that Rodney and Teyla, not to mention Elizabeth and the whole of the US Military, will accept that as an acceptable answer and just let it go. Ronon is hoping for grenade launchers. They’re one of his favorites.

Teyla has cornered a young girl in a ridiculous hat. They’re standing at the edge of the settlement, a few steps away from where the woods begin. It’s a dark place, one that Ronon instinctively knows that if he enters, he won’t have to look for trouble. It’s not wraith, he doesn’t think, and Teyla certainly hadn’t mentioned anything like that, but there’s something not quite right about the place.

The girl doesn’t seem very happy about talking to Teyla but seems even more unhappy when Ronon tries to join them. He stops when he notices her distress, especially after Teyla warns him off with a few well placed hand signals. Frowning, Ronon turns back to the meeting area where Rodney is trying to get more information from the elders. It is not going well. Ronon is not surprised.

“The Colonel is not a form of currency! How do you not get that! We don’t pay for things with, with people!” There’s arm waving and Ronon can see the sweat standing out on Rodney’s forehead. He’s paler than normal and Ronon looks up at the sky to check the movement of the sun. Yep, they’ve been here past lunch- not the plan- and Rodney will need to eat if he wants to remain a giant pain in the ass. Ronon takes his time, enjoys someone else having to deal with McKay, and stops just behind Rodney’s shoulder, all menacing and tall.

The town elders, all older than god and twisted with arthritis, scuttle back as fast as their ancient bodies can move them. Ronon bares his teeth a bit. The old man in front- Jaoam he had said when he introduced himself- almost trips in his efforts to get away and only then does Rodney turn around.

“I should have known it was you, what with all the cringing and everything. They haven’t done that for me.” He sniffs, looking a bit hurt to not get the same reaction from these crazy old people that he loves to get from his own scientists.

“Anything yet, McKay?”

“No, not as such. But-“ Rodney stops, looks behind him at the elders and motions for Ronon to follow him. Far enough away to keep watch on the old folks but not close enough so that anyone could hear them, Rodney leans in. “There are massive energy readings south of us. The village, here, doesn’t show anything close. They haven’t gone electric yet, still original Dylan.” Rodney looks pleased at his joke but the smile washes off when he notices that Ronon didn’t get it.

“Anyway, the energy readings? Not from these people. Something else is out there, something that could have the power to using beaming technology like the Asgard or the like the transporters in Atlantis.”

“So what?”

“So, to take Colonel Sheppard like they did, they would need beaming tech. But if they have that, why would they grab someone fresh through the gate? My guess is that whatever is there is using these people for something. You know, make the natives do the hard work while you sit by the pool and drink mai tais.”

“What’s a mai tai?”

“Never mind. Look, the point is, something way more advanced than the Golden Girls over there is located just south of us and I think we need to check it out.”

“Think we need back up?” Rodney just gives him the glare normally reserved for Sheppard and turns back towards the direction of the gate. Ronon follows, ignoring the protestations of the elders and sees Teyla leave her young friend in a rush, hurrying to catch up with the rest of her team. She sidles up to Rodney, who is taking long, purposeful strides- a man on a mission.

“The young woman talks about a tower, south of here. They are required to give a sacrifice once a year to keep the inhabitants of the tower happy.”

“What kind of sacrifice?” Rodney slows down at that, his voice breaking slightly. He was angry, now he’s worried. It won’t do to get him off track.

“Usually a young maiden is given. They have a lottery of sorts. However, if visitors arrive at the time of the sacrifice, the tower’s inhabitants will accept an outsider.” Teyla’s voice is low but sharp. She does not approve- never does with this sort of thing. She comes from a superstitious people but not one that would give up members of their own tribe in this manner. It is a waste of life and Ronon can see the tension it brings in her shoulders, her back.

“You think that’s what happened to Sheppard.” Not a questions. Ronon’s pretty sure of the answer so he doesn’t even bother.

“I do. My concern is that no one knows what happens to these sacrifices. There is no evidence that they are dead and yet they never return. No one can recall seeing the inhabitants of the tower but every year, their offering is taken.”

“We need to see this tower, see what’s there, who these people are.” Ronon growls out the words, voice low and menacing, hating that once again, someone he cares for needs rescuing.

“You know what?” Rodney stops, looks at Ronon and Teyla with a fierce frown and narrowed eyes. “I’m sick of this, this diplomacy crap when every time they try to kill us, eat us, fuck us- whatever! All for some stupid superstition that makes no sense. I don’t care who these people are, what they want or why they want it. I want Sheppard, back with us and in one piece. Not raped, beaten or dead. Not drugged or married or with a full beard. I want him back as I- as we brought him here and I want it now.” He’s breathing hard when he’s done talking, so angry that Ronon can see the hints of true bravery in his eyes. Rodney has gone to a place where he can and will do something stupid, all for someone else.

Ronon’s ready to do it with him.

“We need Lorne.” In agreement, the three of them head for the gate.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

John wakes up in a different room. Same basic set up but the paint is a different color and the mirror is on the wrong wall. John’s clothes are gone and the pallet has been traded for a large, plush bed but still without sheets. Naked and on a bed- two of his least favorite off-world activities.

“Crap.” It’s warm in the room but breezy, the window open to let in the wind and the light. He can’t hear anything- ocean or trees or anything that could be on the ground. Probably because he’s so damn high up but he stops thinking about that, trying to work out how he was moved, where he actually is and how the hell does he get out.

The naked part tells him that he’s not alone, not really. Someone has moved him, touched him, and taken even more of his things. He is not amused.

Before he can get off the bed, there’s a flash of light and a young man appears next to him on the mattress. Also naked, it seems. John is, again, not amused.

“I’m sorry, there must have been a mistake. I didn’t order any naked guys so you can just-” The man reaches out with one finger and places it on John’s lips. The finger is cool and smells like cucumbers, of all things. John wants to laugh but the sheer earnestness on the man’s face makes him hold it back.

“You are here to please me. Do so and your people will live another cycle. Do not and they will all perish.”

“Wow. My people, huh? And who are they, exactly?” John’s eyes narrow, his nakedness forgotten with the first implication that Rodney, Teyla or Ronon could be in trouble. “And who are you? Seems I missed the formal introductions.”

“I am Doouan. You are from the village. We protect you and you provide us with what we need.” He looks confused and John can’t blame him. The whole thing is ridiculously stupid. John can hear Rodney’s voice in the back of his head, ranting and railing about the idiotic and superstitious practices of Pegasus’ people.

“I’m not from the village. I came through the… ring of the ancestors. Where are my people?”

“If you are not from the village, then I do not know where your people are.” Doouan leans in, long eyelashes brushing against high cheek bones covered with pale, pale skin. His lips are parted, soft breath ghosting over John’s face. John slides himself away, rolling to the edge of the bed and sliding off.

“If pleasing you involves kissing in any way, I’m gonna have to say no, there, buddy.”

“You cannot!” Doouan is on his knees, shoulders back, chest thrust out. “I must take what I need or-“

“Or what? You’ll die? Tell me another one.” John scans the room, looking for anything that he can use as a weapon. He knows he’s not Ronon but there has to be something- anything- that will work to at least knock this guy out for a minute.

“It is true! I will die. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” And suddenly, there are pouty lips and batting eyelashes and John wonders just when the hell he stepped into the porny Twlight Zone. Doouan gets off the bed and stalks towards John, hands at his side. But, John notices now, Doouan’s claws- he has claws for the love of God!- glitter in the light. Not. Good.

“Hey, I’m all for living but not at the expense of others.”

“I won’t kill you. Just… take a bit from you. You won’t miss it.”

“A bit of what, exactly?” John’s back hits the wall and he realizes that he’s done something very stupid. He’s got nowhere to go- it’s a very long drop down and he sure as hell can’t stay here for this.

“A bit of you. Your life. You won’t miss it. I promise.” Doouan leans in again but John pushes against his shoulders with firm hands and slides away, trying to find somewhere in the room to make a stand.

“I’m pretty sure I would, come to think of it. I like my life and would like to, you know, use it all myself.” He doesn’t say that it sounds a lot like the wraith and that if the people of the village wouldn’t miss it, then why didn’t they give it freely?

“You will come here now!” Doouan’s eyes are wide and flashing, making John think for a moment of Rodney then berates himself. This man has nothing in common with Rodney. But before he can say anything, there’s a whooshing noise and the sound of a puddlejumper outside the window. John makes a break for it, skimming past Doouan on his way.

Sliding to a stop before he can crash into the wall, John sees what may just be the greatest sight in the world- the cavalry.

The ‘jumper hatch is open and a full contingent of marines is hanging out the back, Lorne and Ronon with them, armed to the teeth. He can’t see him but he can hear Rodney shouting orders at the pilot and at Ronon. Something about letting down his hair. Whatever it is, he’s glad to see them.

That is, until Doouan wraps his arm around John’s throat. He tightens his grip and John loses the ability to breathe. John kicks back, aiming for a shin or the instep but can’t seem to get his body to move the way he wants it to. He can feel Doouan’s claws scrape of his face and down his chest, can feel each step back away from the window like blows to the chest.

It feels like it takes hours but in reality, it’s only a few seconds. John hears the gun fire, feels the heavy weight of Doouan’s body hang on him for a moment, then slide to the floor in a dead heap. He can hear voices, as if from far away but then it all rushes back to him. He’s panting, his lungs trying to make up for before. Adrenaline surges through his system and he steps away from the body, almost slipping in the pool of blood spreading across the floor.

Ronon’s head pokes through the window, gun still in hand.

“You coming?”

“Absolutely.” Ronon helps him out the window and Lorne drapes a blanket across his shoulders, handing him a wet cloth to clean his feet. They settle him on one of the benches as the ‘jumper pulls away from the tower. Rodney yells at the pilot, directs some marine to close the hatch and to get them the hell out of there. Orders given, Rodney slumps down on the bench next to John and shoots him a dirty look.

“Princess in the tower? Seriously?” All John can do is laugh.


End file.
